Posted 11:44 PM by Gobbler
Thisa weeka we no hava classa

Thanks. Thanks for telling me last class. just thanks, ok.

Bill-isms

Bill our waiban, foreign expert helper chappy, is full of high quality phrases. He understands English pretty well but speaks an entirely unique form of, it seems, his own invention. being a knowledgable chap he often shares his words of wisdom in the form of maxims using his unique sentence construction. For example, a few months ago, as we sat in an empty bar with a few barmaids loitering in the corner, one of them playing pool, the conversation fell to talking about them. Bill's contribution to the conversation: "You know, girls like that: Just for fun. Just for Fun!"

Sitting in his office getting our forms filled in i asked him to fill in the CIEE form that I was supposed to send back to them signed. He swept it out of my hands and scanned the details: "No... no... no... no. No use. No use at all!"

Thinking about going to south korea for may break i asked bill about getting a boat to Seoul. His opinion: "Boat No use at all! Why you want do that? Take plane!"

After numerous meals, as we began to get our money out: "No need pay that. The school pay that."

Talking about Shanghai in relation to Yangzhou: "Shanghai just for show!"

Talking about one of the other foreign teachers that he had a low opinion of: "No use at all!"

Sitting in a bar or restaurant on numerous occassions: "I drink the beer like the water." And, raising his glass, "Nick! Finish All!"

Consulting bill about our may break travels and the bus to chengdu: "Why you want do that? I think you take plane!"

Talking about chicken feet or pigs ear or fish head. "Mmm, is delicious. Nick! I think you try."

Walking around the slender west lake of an afternoon, and crossing a bridge: "Nick! Dont jump! Don't suicide yourself!"

This last piece of information would have gone very well with some of the signs at the worlds biggest buddah (some mighty big buddah action) near chengdu. Along with such classics as "Dont fire the forest." there was the gem of a sign at the top of the cliff from whence the big buddah had been carved. It was just a quick nip over the railing to a certain messy death 80 metres below and the authorities, it seemed, had thought of this, and erected signs saying "Enjoy the life". I could imagine Bill in the background: "Nick, dont suicide yourself!"

Don't suicide yourself! Help is at hand!

Or:

Not so much 'Help the Helpless', but more 'Helpless the Help'

From chengdu we bussed it to chongqing where the plan was to ring our travel agent contact there who would sort us out for the boat cruise. We were dropped off in between two construction sites underneath and overpass, not an encouraging beginning. step one was to get lunch and duly a restaurant was found. But it wasnt as easy as that.

The management didnt seem too keen to serve us, saying "No menu English." and giving a look that appeared to invite us to bugger off. At first the device worked and we drifted away, but soon rallied and returned, strolling briskly into the restaurant and plonking ourselves down at a table, turning not a few heads. Having got this far, we went ahead and ordered, ended up with a few quite palatable dishes, eat, paid and left. As you do. It wasnt the most scintillating of lunches i have to concede, and theres little point in trying to make out that it was. But after lunch, ah, after lunch is where it all happened.

We had been given four numbers to call in chongqing for this lady at the travel agency. Calling each in turn over and over again continuously, sometimes getting through and being hung up on, sometimes getting nowhere, we accumulated about 15 chinese onlookers in a circle around us. Probably at this stage we should have passed around a hat, but were interupted by a girl coming up to us who pretended to speak english, and asked if she could help. It is very hard to tell someone who is trying their best to help that in fact they arent helping at all but are a pain in the arse getting in the way and causing irritation like a swarm of midges that just wont quit, and by the time i had managed to explain to her that we were trying to call someone, about five minutes later, we had been rung back by a man who spoke english who gave us directions as to where to go to meet him. All according to plan so far.

But it all began to get a bit dodgy. We met in the foyer of a hotel, and the guy took us across the road to a building that had no obvious identifying marks on it, and sat us down in a kind of waiting area, to explain to us our boat options. This done he asked us for the fee and said that he would return shortly with the tickets, he would go to the office and get them. "Haaaang on just a second" I thought, "this sounds a bit dodgy." I said we would pay when we had the tickets. He didnt seem to upset by this, and took us across the road to some office that looked vageuly like it might be a travel agency. Things still looked dodgy though less so. I was still suspicious right at the end when, after he had taken a couple of us to the bank and paid for the taxi, he, with money handed over and the tickets in his pockets, led us down the steps to the dock, trotting down them at a healthy pace. I thought that even now he might try and do a runner, disappear into the mass of people and impossible maze of buildings. there would go our money and our tickets and not a damn thing we could do about it. In the end it was fine, he saw us onto our boat, got our forms filled in, explained a few last things, and only after all that did he disappear without even a good bye. Strange, but useful fellow.

But to move onto what the title of this piece is about. The first night of the boat we had a stop at The imaginatively named Ghost City, so called for two reasons. One, the city is below the projected water level resulting from the completion of the new hydroelectric dam project and has thus been evacuatated; and two, it is the site of a large Taoist temple to the King of Hell. Thats right. The Taoists are/were a fair minded religious type and figured that the Hell-God deserved his own little spot on earth. It wasnt just for fun, or even just for show, it was so that, as and when, Mr Hell King could allow one or other of his condemned souls to pop back to earth. they would look upon the earth on a specially constructed tower for the last time before Mr Hell King would obliterate their souls forever. An imaginative way to go.

All this information i gleaned from the occassional sign in english and not from the woman in our tour group who took it upon herself to explain everything to us. Seeing that we didnt understand what the guide was saying she came up to us and tried to enlighten us. However, she apparently didnt perceive what i would have thought was a quite obvious flaw in her methods. Seeing as we couldnt understand what the guide was saying, how the hell were we supposed to understand what she was saying, considering that all she was doing was repeating to us in chinese exactly what she had just heard from the guide. We were tired and ratchety, she was animated and enthusiastic, and there was a definite imbalance there. all she wanted to do was to enlighted us, all we wanted was for her to shut the hell up. And so, as she perservered, we became less gratious and if there had been any understanding in our communications i dare say that she would have been quite upset at how rude we were. its difficult sometimes. What would Mao have said? Perhaps "Liberalism manifests itself in various ways." ('Combat Liberalism', September 7, 1937) What would Bill have said? "Why you want to do that? No need for that."

Posted 11:34 PM by Gobbler
It's High Time For Pie Time

Pie. Pie. Pie. Pie, Pie Pie Pie. Pie.

I like a nice pie. You like pies. We all like pies. Who ate the pies? We did, we did.

But i have a special connection with pies that probably you do not have. Not just because, as we are what we eat, I am or at least was before i became mostly made of rice, at least 50% pie. Not just because my mother makes a particularly fine pie of such behemothic dimensions as might feed a small african nation but in the event is demolished by just four people. My special connection with pies goes far beyond these, albeit important, facts.

My special pie connection is upheld on two rare and crucial pie related pillars of evidence. The first is that i won a pie competition once, for a years supply of pies. We all did, all six of us in a student house. Jon spotted the pie competition, in celebration of 200 years of pie making by some reputable pie manufacturer, and decided that we should all enter. And so all five of us then present entered, saying how thoroughly marvellous we considered pies to be. The sixth member of the house, one Patrick Terence Ryan, was not present, and so we entered for him, writing out his letter of entry for him, saying something along the lines of:

"Dear Long-Standing Pie Manufacturer of Considerable Reputation,

I am writing to you, sirs, with the crumbs of humble pie encrusted upon my lips, to apply for entry into your most prestigious pie comptetion.

It has for many years been the principal joy of my life to partake daily (and sometimes oftener) in the unending pleasure that is the gastronomical feast of one and all of your exceedingly wide selection of pies, puddings and pasties. Not to mention your delightful sausage rolls for which i have, i must here confess, a particular weak spot for.

As soon as i heard of your remarkable competition which is, it is clear to me, a once in a lifetime event, I knew that i had no choice but to enter.

And so here I am. This is my chance, my throw of the dice. Dear Sirs, I beseech you! Bring me Pies!

Yours Faithfully,

Patrick Terence Ryan ESQ."

So we sent off six applications. And blow me down if it wasnt one Patrick Terence Ryan who won the pies. And then shipped most of them home and let various members of his family have some. He was under the nefarious misconception that they were his pies because he had won (what nonsense, what balshiness, what a cad!)the competition. By the time we finally got the pies back most of the sausage rolls were gone.

The second special connection with pies is the original Fray Bentos Meat Processing Plant in Fray Bentos, Uruguay. On my travels around South America, I met in Chile a guy from the north of enlgand. He was a very decent chap and in we got on rather well. After a time he told me of his original incentive for coming to South America. Being English he is extremely fond of pies, and being from the north of england he is excessively fond of them. (it said that in certain remote parts of the north they eat nothing else. when they run out of pies to eat they simply begin to eat each other who, they figure, are the next best thing to pies as they are made out of pies.) He told me that in England there is a famous brand of pies called Fray Bentos, which i had never heard of. He told me that he was excessively fond of the things and had stumbled across some fantastic news regarding Fray Bentos pies, namely that they came originally from the great Pie Factory in the town of Fray Bentos, in Uruguay, which is now a museum. He was in south america with the principal purpose of visiting that pie factory. Admirable sentiments, the man clearly had his priorities right. From that day on I too made it my mission to visit the pie factory at Fray Bentos, and i am happy to say that early last december i made this dream a reality. Check out the archives for early december and you will find a vivid account of my pie factory experience. Particular things to look out for are the ramp of death and the mad tour guide. Moo!

We have now established that i like pies, and that it is right and proper and natural that you all like pies too. To return to the present day. On monday bill rang me up to inform me that he had my pay and a package for me, and that another package was waiting for me at the post office. I cycled over and picked up my pay and my package. The package was from my parents. And what was in the package? A real life, 100% genuine, honest to goodness, Fray Bentos Steak and Kidney Pie. Youbetcha. I almost fainted with delight. Bill looked a little bemused. His expression and subsequent comments can be summed up as "Why you want eat that? It in tin, it no good." The poor deluded man.

Unfortunately I had forgotten to bring my passport and, as this identification is necessary to pick things up from the post office, I could not pick up what ever it was that was waiting for me. Unfortunately, I mused, it would not be another pie, otherwise it would have gone straight to bill's office along with the pie i had just received.

this afternoon i went down to the post office to pick up the package. The package turned out to be five packages. And what was in those five packages? Five real life, 100% genuine, honest to goodness, Fray Bentos Steak and Kidney Pies. Thank you mum.

I have now eaten one of these real life, 100% genuine, honest to goodness, Fray Bentos Steak and Kidney Pies, my very first Fray Bentos pie. And what what was it like, I hear you ask. Well. It was like a whole tin of yum, that is what what it was like. Yum yum yum, Thank you mum.

I have yet to tell you about the great mosquito slaughter or the other events of last week, but just for the moment I am going to digest a pie that i just eat and might have mentioned, and then play football. Ah, its a hard life, this teaching shebang.

Posted 6:57 PM by Gobbler
Swings and Roundabouts

In the bar last night we had, as is the custom, a good old chinwag about teaching, and a good old moan about our various teaching woes. How we dont get told whats going on (my latest complaint) so that lessons are cancelled or moved and no-one thinks to tell us. How the students are unenthusiastic and uncooperative and arent learning anything (Jons current gripe) Both jon and i had classes before 8 this morning but in the spirit of rebellion prompted by these woes we contemplated skipping the classes (most professional) and in any case stayed in the bar until 1:45.

I lay in bed considering whether or not to skip the class and later say that i was ill or that i assumed the class had been moved or cancelled, or that i had decided to change the time of the class and, taking my lead from my superiors hadnt bothered to tell anyone. As i considered these deceitful schemes i fell asleep, having forgotten to set my alarm.

I woken by the phone ringing. It was Bill who suggested that, as it was 8:20 and my class started at 7:40, perhaps i might like to consider attending? Apparently my students had come to my hotel to find me and the hotel had wrung bill. I thanked bill for waking me up, mumbling something about my alarm being broken, as i had not realised that i had not set it. Putting the phone down i stood up and paced around the room deciding whether or not i could be bothered to go to the class or go back to bed, using the above arguments. Pulling on my trousers i realised that I had decided to go, and arrived in time for the second period.

I wasnt expecting much. The last class i had talked about film genres (horror, action, romance etc for you halfwits out there) and had assigned each group a genre and a location and asked them to write a short script in the appropriate style and then read/act it out for the class. As that had been two weeks ago and may holiday had been between it i did not expect that many if any of them had done it, and even though they could have prepared in the first period, most of which i had spent in bed, I didnt think they would. (especially considering my mood in the light of the conversations had the night before)

But stone the crows, or, Bugger me!, they had almost all done it. Not only done it but championed it. They had for the most part learnt their scripts and acted them out on 'stage' at the front of the class; obviously having put a lot of work in. On the whole the class listened and laughed along. (apart from six at the back, a group which hadnt done the work, who either read magazines, talked or did their makeup (just how long does a girl need to look in a mirror putting those remaining 7 hairs in place? At least 45 minutes and probably several weeks more)) As the bell went i told them all how marvellous they were and left the class in a positive spirit, much regretting being late for it and almost missing it altogether.

And now this afternoon ive got four classes of 12 year olds, half of which it seems to me are on speed, for whom the fruit game is wearing a little thin. in any case theyre getting too bloody good at it now. Calling out the fruits or vegetables or jobs or whatever it is they rocket up and down like pistons in a well-oiled racing car, and the faster i call out the names the faster the pistons go. I imagine its like a particularly hectic game of pop-up pirates, though im not entirely sure what that is.

Posted 11:09 PM by Gobbler
Communication is critical in any relationship

And so when i walk into my classroom today to find only three students in it and those three sleeping, at preceisely the time that the lesson is supposed to begin, i do wonder exactly is wrong. One of the three tries to explain. It takes her about a minute. Eventually i get "Now is two o'clock. Class at thirty hours." By which i take to mean that the class wont start for another half an hour and nobody has thought to tell me. This is annoying.

It was the same story yesterday. I go into class at two oclock, or rather i dont because both of the doors are locked, and there isnt even a sniff of a student. I go to the other classroom for my four o'clock class and its the same story there. and there was me dashing back across china to teach a class that wasnt even taking place, and no-one told me.

Well, what to do, what to do? One thing im going to do is leave early. The class now starts at half 2, and i by writing this i shall probably be late. I have to play football at four, a very important and indeed unmissable appointment, so unfortunately i shall have to leave the class half an hour early.

This might spark angry repurcussions but i'll put good money on nothing happening. For one thing probably no-one will notice, for another probably no-one will care. All that might happen is that they think to tell me when my class times are changed. If not, sod'em.

Posted 10:31 PM by Gobbler
It is 1 :32 pm here in Yangzhou Educational College Hotel, and Nicholas Goulden is preparing to go to his lesson because he knows that it will be a one and a half hour struggle against a formiddable language barrier. But he also knows that once he gets in there, to this particular high school class, he will probably quite enjoy himself.

The kids, after all, are on the whole very nice. They mayent know much about english and most of them never will, but they are a pleasant lot. when three weeks ago i showed them a film a lot of them went out in the break to get ice-creams (for ti was a lovely warm day) and they bought me one too, which was a pleasant surprise. I had decided to watch 007 Tomorrow Never Dies, largely because of the marvellous Stealth Boat in it (Which all you steves out there will appreciate very very much) and because it has a certain Dr. Kauffman who, believe me, 'could shoot you from Stuttgart und still create ze proper effect.' You just take my vord for it, ya? I had not realised the full ramifications of the plot where Britain and China almost have a Nuclear War due to the naughty shenanigans of said stealth boat. And the various pseudo-anti communist comments madein the film. Happily my students didnt notice, probably because they didnt really understand what was going on. They did like the big bangs and the fast cars though. Funny That.

And now that he has written this Foreign Expert Goulden feels a little more like going to work.

Posted 10:57 AM by Gobbler
My Travel Blog

Tonight we have something jolly exciting. a blog. a rarer thing in these times. Let us begin where we left off. Which isnt the last blog, or even the one before that. it would have been the one before that but it wasnt. that was because the one before that was heartlessly obliterated by the computer crashing, a fact that i believe i have mentioned. The first topic for our concern today is Pandas. Pandas, so far as they concern us, might have come under the title "You can gander round uganda in a panda, but you cant go over to moldova in a Rover." but they do not. they come under the highly contentious title

Pandas are Rubbish

Thats right. Pandas are rubbish, totally rubbish. Sure theyre big and cute and cuddly and look like a teddy-bear, but i tell you they are rubbish nonetheless. Theres a good reason why Giant Pandas are dying out (less than 1000 left in the wild) and its not just because the Chinese are killing them because they are scared of them because Giant Pandas are much bigger than they are. In order to explain this reason i will begin by asking all you punks out there a simple question: Do Pandas have tails?

***Brief Interlude***

Before I provide the answer to this question please allow for a brief interlude. We all know what Giant Pandas look like. they are big fat black and white shaped animals that look like giant teddy-bears. But, aha. What then, does a Panda look like? Not the Giant Panda but your ordinary run-of-the-mill regular Panda. You would have thought that they must exist somewhere. After all, why call a Giant Panda a Giant Panda when there is nothing to compare it to? Why not just call it a Panda? Just what the answer is i cannot say for sure. But i have a suspicion that regular chinese people might be pandas cleverly disguised. Stands to reason if you think about it. For one thing Giant Pandas and Chinese people come from the same country. Proof enough. Of course its just a theory.

***End of Brief Interlude***

Even if you didnt know the answer, you probably assumed that pandas had tails. Most animals do after all. But did you ctually know, have you actually seen a panda tail? until last sunday when we visited the Panda Breeding Sanctuary near Chengdu in Sechuan Province i certainly had not seen a panda tail, though i had seen plenty of pisctures of pandas. This is because Pandas are rubbish, as you will shortly see.

Pandas spend most of their day sitting on their arse eating, lying on their arse sleeping, and scratching their arse. And by scratching their arse i dont mean with a paw, that would be far too energetic, i mean rubbing up and down at a leisurely pace on whatever piece of ground they happen to have their arse sat on. This is because, by and large they are too lazy to move very much. Or perhaps lazy is the wrong word. Rubbish is better. TO continue...

Pandas, being rubbish, have chosen the most impractical food to eat. Their particular variety of bamboo is so indigestible that they have to eat forty kilos of the stuff everyday to eat. If you dont believe me then go out into the garden and thieve a bamboo cane from among the climbing beans and have a good chew; you will find that it isnt very tasty or nutritious. After you, even if you are very fat, have eaten forty kilos of anything i daresay you will feel a little bloated. This is why they are such fat lazy buggers. They have chosen a rubbish diet, and they have to spend most of their waking hours chomping to survive. all this bamboo munching has a quite soporific effect and theyre pretty much comatosed for the rest of the day. This is why we went to see them at seven in the morning; (not recommended if you went to bed at 6) by lunchtime they would be simply be wobbling gently from side to side rubbing their bellies.

Anotehr reason why Pandas are actually rubbish is their peculiar and impractical mating habits. Pandas, the males at least, are solitary creatures (presumably because no other panda can stand being near them due to the farting from all that bamboo they eat) and, when the time is right, have to cover large distances to find a female. This act of covering large distances is somewhat impractical when you are obliged to spend most of the day eating. And even then the chances of your romantic crusade resulting in successful procreation coming off are limited because the female is only fertile for three days a year. Im still not sure if i believe that statistic, it just sounds too rubbish, but thats what i was told. Sometimes the Pandas cant even be bthered to try and hook up as they dont feel like making all that effort and prefer to eat a bit more and sleep. All these various complications mean that in some years there is no offspring at all. It doesnt take a genius to workmout that this behaviour or lack of it isnt good for the propagation of the species, it is simply rubbish.

The young fellas are much better (at the breeding centre they have successfully bred many pandas, but this is partly at least due to artificial insemination) but even they, sadly, are in the end rubbish in their own way. Theyre more active but their activity resembles telly-tubbies or live teddy-bears after several bottles of whiskey. Largely incapable of standing up and remaining there for long, they just kind of wobble and roll and bump around. They shakily climb up a bit of wood on the fourth attempt, wobble on the top of it for a few seconds, and then fall off, on top of another little chap who has recently succeeded in getting on all four paws, who bashes into the fella next to him who has been sitting on his arse looking for bamboo, who then falls over. then they roll around for a bit in a big ragtag ball of black and white until one disentangles himslef and manages to walk away a few paces before falling over again. another climbs up onto a platform and hopelessly tumbles off again onto his brother or sister or cousin or whoever it is, who naturally collapses further into the ground. Very, very cute and endearing, but ultimately rubbish.

Can you imagine a predator coming across a panda? not a decent predator like a tiger but a rubbish one like toffee my next door neighbours cat that dies years ago. Tabby stuck to mice and birds but lets say she got really hungry one day and spotted a panda and thought she'd have a go. imagine the conversation. "Hello, im tofee and im a cat. Im going to kill you and eat you." "Oh, hello there (scratch scratch) do you have any bamboo? im hungry." "No, you dont seem to understand, im going to kill you and eat you. MIAOOW." "Oh, right, i suppose i should make a run for it then (gets up and falls over) Oh. (blinks) How about that bamboo then? Oh, and you havent seen my misses have you?" Rubbish.

Thats it for now. There is the worlds biggest and most concrete buddah, and some boating to come, and some dam action too. All in the next part of this crazy little thing called blog.